


Homewrecker

by teacupsandtime



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Mild Language, Mistakes were made, Murder Husbands, POV Outsider, Presumed Infidelity, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a hot mess, loudly implied cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 15:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19320877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: An old acquaintance of Hannibal's is in town and finds out he's gotten married since they last saw each other.Later, she sees Hannibal and a scruffy stranger out at a dingy bar and assumes Hannibal is being unfaithful to his pristine, perfect husband.





	Homewrecker

 

“Hannibal?”

The man turned at the sound of his name, placing the white and green fennel bulb in the small basket hanging from his arm as he did. 

“Dr. Bronsdon.” 

She smiled and eagerly extended her hand. 

“Jodie, please,” she beamed. “Oh my gosh, it’s been ages.” 

Hannibal shook her hand warmly as his eyes scanned her face. 

“It has,” he agreed. “Not since our residency, I believe.” 

She pushed a large breath of air from her lungs, amazed that so much time had passed. 

“Seems like only yesterday,” she said. “Do you still live in the area?”

“I do,” he said. “I am no longer a practicing surgeon however.”

“I thought I heard something about that,” she said as she adjusted the purse on her shoulder. “Psychiatry?”

Hannibal nodded. 

“Indeed,” he said. “Word does travel, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Jodie said. “Everyone is always checking in on others who were in our residency. But I have to say-”

She cast a quick look down to his left hand. 

“I hadn’t heard that . . . you got married?”

Hannibal smiled again and tilted his head down, almost shy. Jodie remembered thinking that he would probably never end up in any sort of long-term relationship; Hannibal was always so focused on his work and didn’t seem to see much of a point in romantic attachments. She knew he dated - the two of them had in fact been out together twice - but no one ever seemed to hold his attention. 

Jodie had figured long ago and no one would ever - could ever - live up to Hannibal’s incredibly high standards. 

“That’s wonderful,” she said, the sincerity evident in her tone. “What’s her name?”

“His,” he corrected gently. “Will.”

“Will,” she repeated. “Well, tell me everything! How long have you been married? Where did you meet?”

Hannibal laughed politely. 

“I’m afraid that’s a story for another time. I must be on my way home,” he said. “Are you back in town permanently or only visiting?”

“Oh of course, of course,” she apologized. “And yes, I’m here visiting my sister for the weekend.” 

“If you have time it would be wonderful to have you over to the house,” Hannibal offered. “Perhaps for dinner?”

“That would be great,” Jodie said. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow?”

“Lovely. Have a nice evening, Jodie.”

“You too, Hannibal.” 

**

The next morning, Hannibal called Jodie and set up a date for dinner at the home he shared with Will - having confirmed with his better half that that time would also work for him. 

“I definitely remember you talking about a ‘Hannibal’,” her sister said over breakfast. “It’s not like I’d ever forget a name like that.”

“You never did meet him did you?” Jodie asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Beth shook her head. 

“That’s a shame,” Jodie said. “He’s such an interesting man.” 

“I seem to remember you thinking he was more than interesting at the time.” 

Jodie blushed slightly at the memory. 

“I mean, he is _incredibly_ handsome,” she said. “But in a very controlled sort of way, rigid almost. Hannibal was - is - always so collected, so put together. I literally never saw him lose his composure. Not once. I worked next to him in the ER time and time again and through overdoses, car crashes, construction accidents - nothing ever phased him.”

“But he’s not a practicing surgeon anymore?”

Jodie took a bite of her muffin. 

“No,” she answered. “I never really found out for sure what happened. A friend of mine said it was a patient he couldn’t save, it had to have been his first and, well, I suppose it was his only one. I heard he left surgery not too long after and turned his focus on psychiatry.”

Beth nodded.

“That has to be hard,” she said. “Do you know where he met his husband?”

“No, I don’t know anything about him,” Jodie said. “Just that his name is Will. But, Beth, he’s got to be one hell of a man to have tied Hannibal down. I keep trying to picture the husband of Hannibal Lecter but - as happy for him as I am - I just can’t.”

Swallowing the last of her coffee, Beth stood and reached for her purse. 

“Well, let me know,” she said. “You’re going over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“Cool,” Beth said. “Well, I’m ready when you are.”

Following her sister’s lead, Jodie stood and gathered her belongings before the two women headed out to enjoy the day. 

**

Long after the sun had set, exhausted from playing tourist but not ready to call it a night, the sisters headed towards a small pub that Beth had grown to love. It was out of the way, quiet, and cheap. They walked into the dimly lit bar and grabbed two tall glasses of beer from the bartender before taking a seat at a small table near the back. 

They talked and laughed and shared, alcohol flowing between them.

After about an hour though, Beth noticed that her sister’s attention seemed to be elsewhere.

“Hello?” Beth said, waving her hand in front of the other woman’s face. “Earth to Jodie!”

Instead of acknowledging her, Jodie craned her neck to get a better book at the two men at the other end of the room. She could have sworn it was Hannibal. But it couldn’t have been. The man sitting up near the bar _looked like him_ , sure, but he was wearing a plain, black pair of slacks and grey button up. No suit, no tie, no vibrant colors.

In his hand, wrapped in long fingers, was a glass of red wine. Now, Jodie didn’t know much about vintages - in fact, she knew nothing aside from “red” and “white” - but she did know that this type of bar would most definitely not serve anything Hannibal would ever put into his body. He had once had her over for a “casual meal” and had served her wine that she later found out went for over two grand per bottle. 

Hannibal Lecter would never, ever be in a place like this. 

And then there was the man sitting at his side, the man whose body was slightly turned to face him as they spoke. He spoke to Hannibal with a well-established intimacy, a closeness not suitable for a stranger. His hair was dark and wavy with small curls gathered near his ears and forehead. He wore a blue and black plaid shirt that hung loosely around his slender but well built frame, dark jeans on his long legs. 

“Jodie?”

The snap of her sister’s fingers pulled her attention back. 

“Jodie?” Beth repeated, looking behind her in the direction of her sister’s eyes. “ _What_?”

“I swear . . that’s Hannibal.”

Beth moved to turn her body fully to look and her sister grabbed her arm.   
  
“No, don’t look!”

Beth held her hands up in surrender before she took another sip of her beer. 

“So, it’s Hannibal? Why don’t you go introduce me finally?”

Jodie shook her head, feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol. 

“It’s the man he’s with,” she said. “It’s this place. There’s no way Hannibal would come to a bar like this.” 

“Apparently it is,” Beth said. “And I bet that’s his husband.” 

Jodie shook her head, scanning over the stranger’s casual appearance again. 

“No, no, I’m telling you there is no way."

Beth shrugged and finished her beer, flagging the passing waiter down for another. Over her sister’s shoulder, Jodie’s eyes focused in on the two men; she watched as Hannibal reached for the man’s hand and brought it close to his face. His thumb was rubbing over the man’s fingers, Hannibal’s expression seeming playfully scolding.

When she realized what she was looking at - or rather what she wasn’t -she nearly choked.  
  
“He’s not wearing a ring!” she whispered loudly.

“What?” Beth asked turning to look again. 

“No, don’t!” she exclaimed, slapping Beth’s arm. “That man he’s with, he’s not wearing a ring!”

“Oh my god, Jodie,” Beth said, drawing out her sister’s name. “What are you going on about?”

“The man Hannibal is with, he isn’t wearing a ring,” she repeated. “They’re having an affair!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Beth said. “You don’t know that.”

Ignoring her, Jodie continued to stare at the men at the bar. In the short time that had passed since she’d spotted them, they seemed to have drawn closer to each other. As they spoke, their faces were relaxed and warm, their limbs moving with a slight exaggeration. Where they drunk? Was Hannibal Lecter _drunk_? Maybe he had to be to make himself feel better over what he was doing. 

“God, this is terrible,” Jodie said, holding in a belch. “I can’t believe this.”

“ _Jooodie,_ stop,” Beth drawled. “You don’t _know_ anything. Maybe nothing’s going on. Or maybe they have an open relationship.” 

The stranger leaned forward and toyed with the open top button of Hannibal’s shirt. 

“No, there is absolutely something going on,” she said. “And Hannibal is not the type of man to share. He’s so possessive there’s no way he’d be okay with an open marriage.” 

The bartender got about to replacing a few of the candles that had burned out on the bar, giving Jodie a better view of the two; the stranger was at least 10-years younger than Hannibal and very good looking, classically good looking. His strong jawline was covered with a dark, close beard. 

“Do you think he’s using Hannibal for his money?”

“I don’t know, Jodie,” Beth said, exasperated. “I don’t know the man but he certainly doesn’t sound like the type who’d let himself be taken advantage of.” 

“Well, no, I mean, I’m sure he’s getting _something_ out of it.” 

“We’re adults, sis. You can say he’s fucking him.” 

Beth fully turned - ignoring her sister’s protests - and finally got a good look at the two men. 

“Uh, is Hannibal the one in the grey shirt?” she asked, moving back to face her sister. 

Jodie nodded. 

“Oh Jesus, yeah, he’s hot,” Beth said. “The other one. Well, no, I mean Hannibal is too, in the way you said before, but the other guy is smoking.” 

“Right?” Jodie said. “Oh my god, do you think his husband knows? Do you think he has any idea?”

“What? That he’s got a pretty thing on the side that he takes to fine establishments such as this?”

She made a wide display around the room with her arms. Jodie took another sip of her beer and watched as Hannibal closed the small distance between himself and the other man and kissed him softly on the mouth, lingering over his lips before he pulled back.

“He kissed him,” Jodie said. 

“Didn’t we already establish they were probably fucking?”

“Hannibal isn’t into any kind of public displays of affection,” Jodie said. “I went on a second date with him one time and he practically recoiled when I reached for his hand. And I’ve seen him out with others - you’d never know they were dating if he didn’t introduce them as such.” 

“I still think you’re freaking out over nothing,” Beth said. “You get obsessive and gossipy when you drink. I don’t get why you don’t think that’s his husband.”

“I’m telling you - I’d bet my life - there is no way Hannibal Lecter is married to that man,” Jodie insisted. “If he is, why isn’t he wearing a ring? And why would they come to a place like this? Hannibal is obviously trying to hide him. And I swear to God I think I see an oil stain on that man’s shirt.” 

As the waiter passed by again, Beth asked for the check. 

“I don’t know,” she said to her sister. “But I guess you’ll find out tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Oh God, I can’t go over there _now_ ,” Jodie said. “It’ll be so awkward.”

“You’ll live,” Beth said, leaving several bills on the table along with the receipt. “And at this point I’m too invested for you to not go.”

She stood on shaky legs and reached for her sister’s hand, pulling her to her feet as well. They moved to leave, both of them casting a final fleeting glance at the two men at the bar before they stepped out of the pub and hailed a taxi.    


**

Jodie woke around 9 AM the next morning with a splitting headache and wondering how, at her age, she still allowed herself to get hangovers. Groaning, she pulled her body out of the bed in her sister’s guest room and padded heavily to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on her face and brushing her teeth she headed into the hallway just as Beth’s door opened. 

“Coffee and grease.” 

“Good morning to you too,” Jodie said.

Beth groaned and ran a hand through her hair.

“There is a little cafe just up the street,” she said. “My wallet’s on the counter. If you love your big sister, who helped guide you through childhood, you’ll go get me - us - their bacon, egg, and cheese and a large, black coffee.”

Jodie wanted to argue, but her head hurt too much and the thought of bacon was too hard to resist. She nodded and dressed in clean clothes, splashing more water on her face and making herself somewhat presentable before she grabbed her sister’s wallet and headed out into the sun. The light seemed to shoot directly through her eyes and into the back of her skull.

She did her best to ignore the throbbing in her head as she made her way to the cafe, stepping behind the only other person in line and placing her order as politely as she could once it was her turn. She dropped her change in the little plastic tip jar and stepped towards the “pick-up” sign that hung from the ceiling.

As her order was placed on the counter, announced with the number the cashier had assigned her, Jodie felt her heart bang sharply against her chest as she saw the man at the condiment bar. It was the same man from last night - the man she’d seen with Hannibal - who was tipping sugar into his cup from the shaker. 

He was dressed in what looked like the same pair of jeans with a new shirt, rolled up to his forearms. The fingers wrapped around the coffee cup were smeared with small, light streaks of oil, no ring in sight. He had an entirely different look on his face now that he was alone, he seemed to not want to acknowledge anything or anyone around him. 

No doubt feeling guilty over his actions. 

She told herself it was none of her business. She told herself that he and Hannibal were both adults. She told herself that it took two to wreck a home and that Hannibal was just as much to blame as this man. She told herself all of these things; they raced around her clouded mind in circles. 

But in the end, her fond memories of Hannibal and the throbbing between her temples won over reason.

She quickly grabbed her order and followed the man as he stepped outside, close at his heels. When they’d gotten a little distance away from the door, she quickened her pace and deliberately rammed her shoulder against his and she passed. He huffed in surprise as hot coffee splashed out from the spout and underside of his cup’s lid. The man gathered himself quickly and looked up, meeting her eyes and seeming to be at a loss for words when she didn’t apologize. 

“Excuse me?” He said sarcastically, shaking hot coffee from his hands. 

“Yes, excuse _you_ ,” Jodie replied, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. 

He studied her for a moment, his blue eyes scanning over her face as he attempted to read her expression.

“You bumped into _me_ ,” he said. “The polite thing would be to excuse yourself.”

“Oh right, because you’re so concerned with doing the polite thing,” she said.“The right thing.”

He blinked in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s just using you,” she said, feeling acid on her tongue. “He doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing but a pretty thing to him.” 

The man blinked repeatedly, his face lax with confusion. 

“Lady-”

“Eventually he’ll realize that you’re no good for him,” she continued, cutting him off. “I just hope by then it’s not too late. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

As a cloud passed over the sun and cast a shadow over the both of them, the bright morning light dimmed over the man’s features and Jodie felt her anger retreat. Inside her now was anxiety and adrenaline over having confronted a total stranger in public. 

Before the man could compose any sort of response, she turned on her heels and walked red faced back towards her sister’s house, their breakfasts clutched tightly in her hands. 

**

Jodie spent the rest of the day recuperating, largely with sleep, water, and Ibuprofen. At least once an hour, she considering calling Hannibal and cancelling; it was getting harder and harder to think about facing him and holding her tongue. But calling to cancel on him seemed just as daunting so as the sun set, she hauled herself into the shower and dressed for dinner at his home.

“Maybe take it easy on the wine tonight,” Beth offered as Jodie headed out the door. 

The taxi dropped her off in front of Hannibal’s grand home five minutes before she was due to arrive. Her heels clicked up the stone path as she came to a halt in front of his door, knocking twice. 

Hannibal opened the door wearing a plaid-patterned blue and black three piece suit and vibrant paisley tie, a warm smile on his lips. 

“Jodie,” he said. “Please come in.” 

He stepped aside to let her pass and shut the door behind them. 

“As always, you are right on time,” he said. “Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She followed as he led her through the house and towards the kitchen. As she rounded the corner and stepped into the room, Jodie felt every drop of blood in her body sink to her feet. 

It was the man from the coffee shop. The man who had been with Hannibal in the bar. The man she had essentially assaulted and called a homewrecker that very morning. 

He was standing in Hannibal’s kitchen now zesting an orange in a dress shirt and jacket; a gold band on his left hand catching the light as he worked.

“Jodie, this is Will,” Hannibal said, motioning towards him. “Will, this is Dr. Jodie Bronsdon.”

There was literally nothing else in the world that Jodie wanted to do more in that moment than shrivel up and die. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe. She was filled with shame and embarrassment as Will dropped the zester and came forward with his hand extended. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Bronsdon,” he said, with a slight smile. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and took his hand, shaking it weakly. 

“Um, Jodie, please,” she said softly. “You can call me Jodie.” 

“Jodie,” Will repeated, smiling more brightly. 

As he released her hand, Hannibal turned to look at her. 

“Are you feeling well?” He asked. “You seem a little pale.” 

She forced a polite smile and met his gaze. 

“Oh yes,” she said. “Just a headache - that’s all.” 

“I can get you some painkillers if you’d like,” Hannibal offered. 

She wanted to protest, she wanted to run away. 

“If it’s no bother, that would be great.” 

“Of course,” Hannibal nodded. “I’ll return in a moment. Will, would you mind turning the oven off and taking the roast out?”

He nodded as Hannibal left the room. The moment he had gone, Jodie exhaled a huge breath and placed her hands on the kitchen island for support. 

“I - I don’t know what to say,” she stammered. 

Will turned and shut the oven off, opening the door and pulling the pan of meat out with a nearby towel. He placed it on the counter in front of her. 

“I am _mortified_ ,” she said, color rushing to her face. “There is nothing I can say to you to properly convey how sorry I am.”

Will put his hands on the counter opposite of her. Jodie couldn’t stop staring at his ring. 

“What made you say those things?” Will asked. “I’ve never even met you.”

Tears of embarrassment filled her eyes as she ducked her head.

“I was with my sister and had had too much to drink,” she began. “Not that that is any sort of excuse but I saw you with him - with Hannibal - at the bar last night and . . . ”

She trailed off, having no idea how to tell the man in front of him that she had thought that he wasn’t good enough for the man he'd legally bound himself to.

“You knew Hannibal was married, just not to me.” 

Christ, it was even worse to hear him say it. 

“Please,” she said. “Try and understand. I’ve known Hannibal for years, known the type of man he is, his interests-”

“You don’t need to explain anymore,” Will interjected. “You saw me, a younger, less ‘put together’ man with him at a bar that didn’t offer a valet service and you assumed he was cheating on his actual partner with me.” 

She wanted to sink through the floor. 

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her eyes wide. “I don’t know what came over me. He was just always so lonely when I knew him and I was so happy when I’d heard he’d married and then I saw you with him and I didn’t see your wedding ring and my distrusting mind just ran amuck.” 

Will pulled the carving knife and fork out of the drawer. He pierced the meat in front of him with an odd little grin on his lips. 

“In my spare time I like to fix things,” Will said. “I’d been working on an old, broken engine so I had taken my ring off. I had just come from working on that same engine when I, well, when you _ran_ into me this morning.” 

“You don’t owe me any explanation,” she said, her head turning as she heard Hannibal’s footsteps coming closer. “And god knows I don’t have any right to ask you this but, please don’t tell him. I would be devastated if he knew.”

Not to mention sure to invoke his ire at the very least, she thought.

Before Will could answer, Hannibal had returned with two blue and red pills in his hand. Jodie took them with a small smile and swallowed them dry. 

“Thank you.”

Hannibal rounded the kitchen island and kissed Will quickly on the temple as he took the knife and fork he’d brought out. 

“Follow me,” Will said to her. “I’ll show you to the table. Hannibal loves to make a dramatic entrance.”

**

Throughout the course of dinner, Jodie slowly managed to relax, eventually coming to a place where she could laugh honestly as she and Hannibal reminisced about their days together at Johns Hopkins. Hannibal told her the story of how he and Will came to meet and of the ensuing courtship, though Jodie got the feeling there was more to it than what he was telling her. 

Every time Will spoke, Hannibal looked at him with such unabashed adoration in his eyes that Jodie felt another pang of embarrassment over her superficial assumptions. 

When the meal had finished, she thanked Hannibal repeatedly for the delicious food and politely declined his invitation for coffee and dessert, using her early flight as an excuse.

The two men walked her to the door. 

“It was lovely seeing you again,” Hannibal said. “Please do let me know when you’re back in town.”

“I will,” she said as she turned to his husband. “It was lovely meeting you, Will. Hannibal is an exceptionally lucky man.”

They both smiled in response as she turned and got into the waiting taxi at the end of the path. As the car pulled away, Hannibal slipped his arm around Will’s shoulders and pulled him close. 

“You’ve seemed distant tonight,” he whispered into his hair.

Will smiled and pushed against him, his mind flashing back to the image of Jodie eating the meat he and Hannibal had slaughtered together only days before.

“I’m fine,” he answered. “Just preoccupied. I’m not sure if I’m going to get that engine working again.” 

Hannibal nodded as they stepped back inside, asking Will to explain the mechanical process to him as he poured two cups of coffee. 

 


End file.
